Soul Music
by Sparkle Itamashii
Summary: For a second I thought he was going to stop me or say something but he merely replaced the violin against his skin and began to play. :3x4x3: One Shot :Before Storm:


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Author: Sparkle Itamashii

Title: Soul Music

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing A/C and its characters, settings, and plot are NOT MINE. Please do not take, alter, distribute or archive this story without my permission.

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Note: This story is from my "Before Storm" one-shot series that all take place during the altered-plotline war and before the beginning of "Through the Storm" which may also be found amongst my fanfiction.

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**Soul Music**

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I ghosted my fingertips along the edging of the hallway, not quite hard enough to leave prints as I stared dispassionately at all of the paintings on the walls I passed. The were all Important People but they were all dead or unknown to me, their only remnants oil paints and canvas behind dusty glass. It was strange to be such an aged place. The entire building felt like it was full of time, of past; like it lived someplace, some _time,_ that no one else could. I couldn't imagine living there every day and found myself secretly glad that I wouldn't be staying more than a week. I didn't belong in such a permanent place.

"Hey?" he asked softly from a few yards ahead of me. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," I said, feeling my chest tighten at the word.

I wasn't fine, I knew. My neck hurt and my arms ached from pulling Heavyarms' controls earlier. I was used to towing weight, to whirling around like a devil on the trapeze but the raw strength it took to maneuver my gundam was always a bit of a strain. It hadn't helped that I'd had to wield only my knife when I'd gone up against the little blonde kid who was now walking in front of me. I'd nearly pulled a muscle trying to overpower his mobile suit, but it seemed that we were equally matched in the mechanical respect.

But where were we now? I'd followed him back to this… this _mansion_, followed him and his small army of brown mobile suits and the most I'd heard from him since was 'Come with me.' No one had questioned his authority, although the biggest of the men that had piloted had looked as though he might. It seemed out of place to see such a small person giving gentle orders to such a large group of men, to see those orders _followed_ as obediently as dogs… So what now? What was I doing here?

"Am I…" I hesitated, not sure how to ask what I wanted to know. Could I leave? Was I being kept here? What did he want?

"Are you…?" he urged, tilting his head just a little bit, slowing his walk and turning to face me. He seemed to figure it out before I could put my words together. "Oh, no, don't worry," he assured me in that soothing tone. "When your suit is fixed… well, you haven't got to stay."

"Oh," I said, trying not to stare too hard at him. I had seen a lot of people in all the time I'd been alive, but never one quite like the boy in front of me. "How… I mean, you- they don't have to do that. I know how to fix it."

"It's…" he began tentatively, brows drawing together in thought. "It's a Gundam, isn't it. Your suit." There was no question. He knew. "Where did you… I thought I was the only one."

"Me too," I agreed as he began walking again. I followed without questioning where we were going. "I sort of…" I started to say that I'd stolen it, but I hadn't, really. "It was given to me, after the original pilot died. The person who gave it to me told me to do-"

"Whatever you want with it?" the boy finished. We gave each other strange looks before he sighed. "I was told basically the same thing. I had a… a mission, I suppose, but something changed. Something _happened_. The professor made me leave and I haven't seen him since. Sandrock still gets transmissions, he still tells me what I should do… but I have no idea where he is."

So we were in the same boat.

"Sandrock…" I echoed his gundam's name. "Heavyarms."

I caught the flash of a smile that flickered across his features as he turned once more to face me, hand resting gently on a silver doorknob. "It suits him." There was nothing but honesty in his voice. He turned the knob and the door swung open on silent hinges. "This is my room," he said quietly, never taking his eyes from mine. "You're welcome to stay here with me – there's an extra bed – or there are any number of other rooms. Just let me know where you're at so they know where to bring things or clean."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going down the hall," he said. "There's a music room. I'll leave the door open but it's not hard to find."

I eyed him a little suspiciously. "You're just going to let me wander? What if I'm an enemy?"

The door closed with a nearly silent click and he gave me a distantly sad, tired look. "Are you?" he asked. "Because I don't believe that you are. I don't think you and I should be fighting one another. It's not right."

Truthfully, I didn't think it was either. Fighting him felt wrong. But I kept my mouth shut because I didn't know anything about him and the less information someone else had about me, the better. He watched me for a moment, as though trying to decide whether or not the conversation was going to continue. With a sigh, he gave in and nodded once.

"Your suit will be fixed by tomorrow morning, at least enough for you to take it if you want. I'll be down the hall." He turned away from me and took a step before halting. I waited and he paused and then whatever had made him stop resolved itself and he shifted just enough to see me. "My name is Quatre, by the way. Quatre Winner."

He waited for a moment, most likely to see if I would offer my own name, before disappearing down the hall. For a split second I felt bad for not giving him my name, but it passed quickly. I had no name. I hadn't had a name for years. By all rights, I probably shouldn't have even existed or been here any more but I did and I was and that had to count for something. Maybe that boy was in a similar situation. Maybe…

It didn't really matter. As soon as I was able to leave, I would.

For a while I stood in the hallway, not really sure what to do until then. I could explore the mansion for a while- it was certainly different enough than a lot of places I had been. I thought seriously about that, toeing open the door to the boy's – to Quatre's – room and peeking inside. It was nice, furnished with simple things and an open window to the outside desert. The light was fading as night settled.

In the end, I moved down the hall to the music room. He had left the door open like he'd said he would and I could hear the soft whine of a violin, the sort of sound made by a person deciding how to begin. I stood silently in the doorway, sure that he didn't see me quite yet, and observed. Eventually the instrument settled into his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin, and the music began to flow in earnest. I closed my eyes for a second, listening to the draw of the bow and the voice of the strings as they sang.

I slipped inside when the first song came to a close and he saw me. For a second I thought he was going to stop me or say something but he merely replaced the violin against his skin and began to play. Pressing myself into the corner between the wall and the cabinet that held the rest of the room's instruments, I closed my eyes and continued to listen. He was good, I admitted to myself as I stood. I could give him that much. But after a while I realized that there was something missing.

He was alone.

Without even really meaning to, I'd pushed myself away from the wall and opened the cabinet beside me. It had been left unlocked, so I assumed it was fair game. His playing faltered for a moment as he stopped to watch me curiously, eyes tracing over the silver flute I extracted. Our eyes met and a conversation was held, permission was granted, thanks were given, but no words were exchanged. I raised the flute to my lips, pressing them against the cool metal of the mouthpiece. The sound of his violin filled the room an instant before the smooth notes of my instrument joined it.

I don't know how long we played but it must have been hours because by the time we faded to a stop there was no light from the windows and there was a man standing just outside the door who informed us that he hadn't wanted to interrupt us but dinner was ready a while ago. Quatre thanked him politely and the man disappeared. I kept my eyes on the door for several minutes to make sure he had gone and when I turned to put away the flute, I found the other boy's eyes on me, a curious little smile playing on his lips.

"You're very good," he said softly. "Can you play others? You matched all my songs."

"I know a lot of songs," I replied, dropping my gaze from him. "I've played a lot of instruments." My past clawed at my throat, closing it momentarily. "I was… _entertainment_, when I was younger," I managed, wondering why it felt as though I owed him at least that much of an explanation. Entertainment was such a gentle word…

"Ah," he said, almost sounding like he really understood. "Maybe I will get to hear a few more before you leave. I would like that."

I could feel my brows drawing together for a moment before I looked back up at him, my bangs obscuring part of my vision. I saw no hint of sarcasm in his expression; his sea-green eyes were clear, reflecting his innocent smile. He was serious. He actually wanted to play with me and the knowledge stirred something inside of me that hadn't been touched in years.

"I… So would I," I admitted, replacing the flute in the cabinet with infinite care. I wanted to play with him again. I wanted to wrap my soul up in the music, to play because I wanted to hear the notes and not because someone made me. I wanted to play with him again because he didn't demand anything from me. He let me play, he lead the way or followed when I lead and he didn't ask questions I didn't want to answer.

The violin was returned to its velvet case and he moved for the door, brushing up against my arm as he did so. The sensation raised the hairs on my arm but it did not leave me sick to my stomach as most touches did. In fact, it did just the opposite and I found that I didn't want him to walk away from me. I didn't want to be alone.

"Come with me," he said as if he'd read my mind as he moved down the hall toward our dinner. They were the same words he had first spoken to me when I arrived with him though I was much more happy to hear them this time.

Blushing and glad that he'd turned his back to me once more, I followed him as easily as I would for the rest of the war… and I never once regretted it.

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/**End Soul Music**/

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